The Space Ghost dream of 1976

I really don't know if I dreamed it.

I know I dreamed it... but

well: in fact I don't understand my feelings while I'm saying this, the mental diapositives are scary, sick.
I think I dreamed I was watching "Space Ghost" in 1976.

My age was not my age of 1976, I was older, and I was watching "Space Ghost" on a TV in 1976. A TV of 1976.

And it was a black dawn, as black were the dawns of 1976; because those must have been dawns in black and white.

In black and black.

The breakfast was sordid and rampant, as the breakfasts in 1976 were, in black and white

I went out of the house suddenly:

The TV stayed turned on, receiving a transmission through the air of 1976.

But the sky... it was encapsulated in itself, like black granite: 
the city of 1976 was a "Burda" & a "Marie Claire" magazine's of 1976, and the narrow avenue was paved with stones, because everything was black and nocternal at dawn, and the air was full of ohmic resistance and fuzz.

The rain was just an anecdote, and I caught my father's car -probably a black Valiant IV from 1976- and went driving, passing by blocks and blocks of black, and it was always a same rotative sequence, like the backgrounds of Aquaman or Birdman.

There was a policeman of 1976, who was standing over an eminence built in cement and glass, and he was redirecting the traffic of 1976.

Some haze deformed his appearance from the distance, and he looked like one same thing with the small tower or eminence where he was; he looked like a bottle of "Hacendado". 

Because the city was a guiso of 1976, raving in orgasms that the cars aroused in it, rolling with wet wet wheels over its soaked vaginism; mmm... over its inhuman clitoris.
Mmm... mmm...


The daylight didn't appear that morning. And never.

Radio Splendid and other A.M. stations sounded with a deafening interference, especially during the emission of Pappo's Blues tunes, probably because of the telephone lines of Valentín Alsina in combination with the wet pavement and the modulation of the platos voladores, which provoked a ball of electrostatic hiss.

The daylight didn't appear that morning.
And never.